Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series

by Paula Wiseman

  “Tell me when I been wrong about you. One time even. Tell me. I’m listening.”

  Shannon shook her head and pushed the button for the elevator. “Esther, can I ask you something?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What’s it feel like when God’s dealing with you?”

  “You never had God deal with you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Never?”

  “No, that’s why I’m asking you.”

  “Miserable.”

  Shannon raised her eyebrows. “That answers that, then.”

  They stepped on the elevator and when the doors closed, Esther spoke. “Listen, baby, you best get things settled with God before He gives up.”

  “I didn’t think God ever gave up.”

  “All right, I ain’t no preacher,” Esther said in frustration. “He doesn’t give up, but He ain’t gonna beat a dead horse, either. If you aren’t gonna listen, He’s gonna quit talking.”

  “You think He just wants me to go home?”

  “You gotta answer that one.”

  “How?”

  “You read, you pray and you wait.”

  “I don’t have a Bible,” Shannon said.

  “I can fix that,” Esther said with a smile. When the elevator door opened, she quickly got the housekeeping cart from the closet and knocked on the first door.

  “We’re supposed to start at the other end of the hall.”

  “Shush,” Esther said, unlocking the door. She breezed in and quickly returned carrying the Gideon Bible from the room.

  “You want me to steal a Gideon Bible?” Shannon asked.

  “It ain’t stealing. They want you to have them. They told me so. Besides, when you’re back home you can send and have it replaced.”

  “What am I supposed to read, then, Madame Prophet?”

  “Joel chapter two.”

  “If you say so,” Shannon said, stowing the Bible on the cart. “Tonight before I go to bed.” At this point, she’d try anything.

  * * *

  Jack loosened his tie and kissed his mother’s cheek on his way to the refrigerator.

  “Don’t get too much,” she cautioned. “Dinner will be ready in a few.” She lifted the lid for the large pot and the aroma filled the kitchen.

  Jack settled on pouring a large glass of milk and took a seat at the kitchen table. “Smells good. Roast?”

  “Beef and noodles, and I made cornbread.”

  “Awesome.” Jack gulped his milk and leafed through the morning paper still lying on the table.

  His mother returned the lid to the pot and took her usual spot at the table. “So how is it, working for your dad?”

  “It’s good, but he mostly has me working for Chad Mitchell so nobody thinks I’m getting special treatment.”

  “So even wearing a tie every day is okay?”

  “Yeah, I don’t mind, really. My ties are a lot cooler than Dad’s, anyway.”

  “Is he making you work tomorrow?”

  “Yep, but there’s a television in the conference room, so I can at least keep up with the games.”

  “I thought Missouri already played their bowl game.”

  “They did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to watch the other games.” He took a large gulp of milk.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I almost forgot.” She shuffled through a stack of catalogs and junk mail in the center of the table. “You got a letter today.”

  “Who from?”

  “I have no idea.” She glanced at the envelope before handing it to him. “No return address, but it’s postmarked St. Louis.”

  Jack frowned and tore open the envelope. He unfolded a half sheet of lined paper, written in a ragged scrawl.

  Dear Jack,

  The police are through with me for now, so I’m moving on. I know you’re disappointed, and I can’t explain to you why it has to be this way. Reckon if there’s a trial, I might be back. Hard to tell.

  You’re a great man, Jack, just like your father.

  Ed

  He enclosed a photograph of a young family, a man, a woman, and a little girl who looked barely old enough to be in school. The edges were worn and the colors were faded. Jack studied the picture, lightly touching the little girl’s face.

  “Everything all right?” his mother asked softly.

  He handed her the letter. “He’s leaving town.”

  “Honey, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah.” Jack pressed his lips together and handed over the photo. “He sent me this.”

  She studied it several minutes, then she smiled. “She looks like you, like you looked when you first came.”

  “I thought I looked like my dad.”

  “You do, but I can see a lot of your mother in you, too. Especially at that age.” She handed the photo back. “Is that the only one you have?”

  “I have two old ones now, and the one from Penner Hewitt. The rest of ’em are up here.” Jack pointed to his temple. He stuffed the letter back in the envelope. “It’s like he doesn’t want to associate with me.”

  “He’s spent his life alone. We can’t expect him to take up with a family overnight.” Jack frowned and shook his head. “Can I say one more thing that won’t help?” she asked.

  Jack smiled. “Sure.”

  “He’s right. You are a great man. Now.”

  He grinned. “Well, coming from a great woman, I reckon I have to believe it.”

  “Smart boy.”

  * * *

  Shannon collapsed on her bed after her shift in the hotel’s restaurant. The Gideon Bible peeked out of her bag. “Not tonight,” she mumbled. She knew if she closed her eyes, she would sleep until morning. Esther would understand. One night wouldn’t make that much difference.

  But . . . Esther would ask her first thing tomorrow morning. She sighed and rolled over, then yanked out the Bible. Joel chapter 2, as promised. “I hate the Old Testament,” she grumbled, wading through the verses in the King James. “This doesn’t even make any sense.” Then, a verse caught her eye and she sat up on the bed.

  Therefore also now, saith the Lord, turn ye even to me with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning: and rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God: for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil.

  Then farther down almost to the end of the chapter, she read a verse that made her smile.

  And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpillar, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you.

  “Esther’s locusts,” she said.

  And ye shall eat in plenty, and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, that hath dealt wondrously with you: and my people shall never be ashamed. And ye shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I am the Lord your God, and none else: and my people shall never be ashamed. . . . And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be delivered.

  * * *

  Thursday, January 1

  Chuck slapped at the clock before he roused enough to realize it was the doorbell ringing and not his alarm. He blinked several times, forcing his eyes to focus on the clock. Two thirty. Who . . . ? He felt Bobbi throw off the covers on her side of the bed. “Honey, just stay here. I’ll handle it.”

  “No way, mister. What if it’s Shannon?”

  “Ringing the bell? Why wouldn’t she come on in?” He pulled on a robe, slid his feet into a pair of sneakers he kept by the bedside.

  “Who knows?” She yawned and pulled on her own robe.

  Jack staggered out of his room and met them at the top of the stairs. “Who’s at the door?” He squinted and tried to mash his hair down.

  Chuck flipped on the porch light and peered through the side panel. “Good grief, it’s John.”

  “John Isaac?” Bobbi said.

  “Yeah.” Chuck disarmed the se
curity system and opened the door. “John, come in. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing!” John said with a grin Chuck would remember for the rest of his life. “I found Shannon!”

  Chapter 24

  Homecoming

  Found. Shannon. Bobbi grasped the console table in the entry hall as that hope, once given up, now transformed itself into tangible reality. John . . . found Shannon. He knew where she was.

  “Found her? Where?” Chuck asked, already reaching in the hall closet for his coat.

  “Hang on.” John took Chuck’s arm. “You can’t go get her right this minute.”

  “Why not?”

  “I know where she works. I don’t know where she lives.” He pointed toward the living room. “Can we sit down?”

  Bobbi managed to nod and stumble backwards out of his way. She switched on the light and motioned John to the recliner while she sat on the edge of the sofa. Chuck slid in beside her and took her hand. He rubbed his hand across the back of hers gently, trying to warm it and ease the tremors. Jack leaned against the arm of the sofa.

  “Where is she?” Bobbi asked. “How’d you find her?”

  “Dumb luck,” John answered.

  “Providence,” Bobbi corrected.

  “Right,” John said, nodding. “Durham Chemical hosted a big New Year’s Eve party at the Palladium downtown—”

  “One of the big casino hotels?” Chuck asked.

  “Yeah,” John admitted, dropping his eyes. “Anyway, I was in there this evening checking on the arrangements when I saw Shannon working in the restaurant.”

  “What’d you say to her?” Bobbi asked.

  “Nothing. I was afraid to approach her, you know? I was afraid she might take off again.” He shifted in his seat. “Should I have said something?”

  “No, you did the right thing,” Chuck said.

  “I asked the hotel people about her. She works in housekeeping, too. She’s due back at eight in the morning.”

  “I’ll have her home in time for breakfast,” Chuck said quietly, hugging Bobbi tightly to him.

  “Finally,” she whispered, and relaxed into tears. Chuck held her, then kissed her and hugged her again. The siege was over.

  “John, I don’t know how we can ever pay you back,” Chuck said after letting a long deep breath go. He stood and shook hands with John.

  “I’m just sorry I didn’t get out here sooner. That party was kinda my baby. I couldn’t get away.”

  Bobbi stood and gave him a hug. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

  “No, but I have an idea what it means to get back someone you love.” He grinned and held his left hand up, showing off his wedding band. “Kara and I . . . we’re . . . we did the courthouse thing the day after Christmas.”

  Bobbi hugged him again. “That is wonderful, John. I’m thrilled for you and Kara and the girls.”

  John smiled again. “Glen and Laurie said they’d help us out.”

  “I love Glen and Laurie. They’ve meant so much to us over the years.”

  John nodded toward the door. “I’m gonna get going. We’ll be praying.”

  “Thank you,” Chuck said. He closed the door behind John and swept Bobbi into his arms. “She’s coming home today!”

  “Can it really be? After all this time?”

  “I think you can let yourself believe it.”

  Bobbi did. She collapsed against him, letting her emotion, her fear and anxiety give way to joy, relief and blessed anticipation. Six hours. That was less time than she labored to bring Shannon into the world, and now after six bleak months they would bring her home again. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, Jesus.

  Chuck laughed through his own tears, kissed her and rocked her in his arms until Jack cleared his throat. Jack. She had completely forgotten Jack was in the room. She turned to him and smiled. “We’re getting her back.”

  He nodded and grinned. “Since we’re all up, I’ll, uh . . . I’ll go make your coffee.”

  * * *

  Shannon put the key in the ignition and gripped the steering wheel. “Now Hondas are supposed to be extremely reliable. Lately, you seem to be forgetting that. Next payday, we’ll go get a nice oil change and make you feel all better, but today you need to hold up your end of the deal.”

  She turned the key and the engine growled, then turned over. “See, I knew you had it in you. Now we’ll drive to work and you can take the rest of the day off.”

  She, on the other hand, would work and try her best not to think about her mom, or her dad, or her brothers. Last night, watching that stupid ball drop, surrounded by the drunks in the hotel bar, she felt so isolated and forgotten. But then she got angry. She was here, alone, because she chose that. Nobody threw her out. She left. She refused to call home even. She was the one hiding. It was her own stupid fault.

  Her plans made so much sense that Saturday morning. Dealing out punishment for her injustice. Giving her dad what he deserved. Right. How stupid.

  Last night, when sleep wouldn’t come, she kept trying to imagine what it was like when her dad had to come home and face her mother after he cheated. Or when he confessed it all in front of the church. What was it like to stand there alone and face all the people he’d hurt, the very people he loved most? He always said Phil Shannon told him what to say, but still. He had to say it. If only she had a Phil Shannon.

  The downtown was dead, but the red lights still directed the nonexistent traffic. “Of course,” Shannon muttered as she eased to a stop. When she moved to lower the sun visor, she caught sight of her own name in her peripheral vision. Her name. On a billboard.

  SHANNON

  IT’S OKAY TO COME HOME!

  LOVE, DAD

  She clamped a hand to her mouth. How many other Shannons could there be in the city? Was there anyone else that message was aimed at? Or was her dad that nuts? She smiled as tears spilled onto her cheeks. He was totally nuts.

  The driver behind her tapped his car horn. “Green light, right,” she muttered. She couldn’t wait to tell Esther. If her dad really put up that billboard for her . . .

  * * *

  Chuck kept a close eye on his speedometer, fighting the impulse to blast his way downtown, but he promised Bobbi he would obey the speed limits. That was the first of her conditions for letting him come alone. She also made him tell her what he planned to say. He’d rehearsed that since June. He was going to beg for Shannon’s forgiveness and ask her if she would come home. Finally, he agreed not to mention the cancer. She wanted to handle that once Shannon was settled in back at home. He went along with her wishes immediately. He had to. He needed to bring Shannon home himself.

  He checked the scribbled sheet of directions he held against the steering wheel, but he couldn’t make out the street names. Grabbing his glasses from his shirt pocket, he used his teeth to open them up. “Here we go,” he whispered as he double-checked the streets and exited the highway. Ten more minutes and he’d be at the Palladium.

  * * *

  Jack watched his mother pace, alternating between wringing her hands and hugging herself each time she passed. “Can I do anything for you?” he asked.

  “No, sweetheart.” She smiled and patted his knee. “I’m afraid this is how it’s going to be until I hear from them.”

  “You wanna read the paper?”

  “No.” She peeked out the front window again, and Jack shook his head. His dad wouldn’t be back for at least an hour.

  “Do you care if I read it?” he asked.

  “Of course not.”

  Jack slouched against the arm of the sofa and read through the sports section first, catching all the updates from bowl games and the last games of the NFL season. To kill a little more time, he began reading through the local section, the part he usually skipped. “Mom, you better take a look at this.”

  She took the folded paper from him and visibly flinched when she read the article.

  SLU student arrested on four counts of se
xual assault

  St. Louis University freshman Dylan Aaron Snider, 19, was arrested Tuesday evening on charges he sexually assaulted four females. Two of the victims are under eighteen and two are college students, all of whom may have been involved in a relationship with Snider. St. Louis police filed the charges after an investigation prompted by a 15-year-old victim coming forward. The complaint alleges that Snider offered the girl marijuana in exchange for sex and when she refused, engaged in nonconsensual sex. The other victims’ complaints are similar. If convicted of felony sexual assault, Snider faces a maximum seven years in prison.

  * * *

  Chuck screeched to a stop in the registration lane at the Palladium. He flipped his emergency blinkers on and breathed a quick prayer. “Dear God, please let this be it.” He slipped his glasses back in his pocket and got out of his car. He intended to go floor by floor until he found her. If that failed, then he’d get the hotel management involved.

  Inside the lobby, he punched the button for the elevator and checked his watch. Eight fifteen. When the elevator door slid open, he hit 22 and waited. He’d start at the top and work his way down. On the nineteenth floor, he caught up with two housekeepers who told him Shannon usually started on eight.

  On the elevator back down to the eighth floor, he tried to rub some feeling back in his icy hands and wished he had a drink of water. What if she wouldn’t come home with him? The phone message, like the note, was for Bobbi. What if she still wanted nothing to do with him?

  He’d take her home anyway.

  When the doors opened, he bolted off to the left, down the dimly lit hallway. He made a right at the next hallway and then stopped cold. There she was. Shannon. His baby girl. Her back was to him, her focus on the clipboard in her hand. The woman working with Shannon didn’t seem to notice him either.